


The Spy and the Serpent

by So_I_Write



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, But the abuse is minimal and offscreen, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Hogsmeade, Hogwarts, Kissing, Love, M/M, Professor Harry Potter, Severus and Harry Love Each Other, Warm and Fuzzy Feelings, lots of talking about feelings, mainly fluff, potions master snape, tw: abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-23
Updated: 2020-06-23
Packaged: 2021-03-03 19:35:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,438
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24880930
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/So_I_Write/pseuds/So_I_Write
Summary: After years of being friends, Severus knows he is in love with Harry Potter. But Harry has issues to deal with (read: a boyfriend who treats Harry like sh*t and who royally pisses Severus off) before they can be together.tl;dr: Severus saves Harry from an abusive relationship and Harry finally realizes he's in love with Severus too. Duh.
Relationships: Harry Potter/Severus Snape
Comments: 7
Kudos: 342





	The Spy and the Serpent

**Author's Note:**

> My friend begged me for this prompt one day over text: Snape and Harry are actually friends – not just like kinda – and Harry is in a gross relationship. Snape saves him. OOC because Severus is nice? Also, like, fluffy cause angst is bleh. Could you pleeeeeeaasseee?
> 
> I couldn’t resist taking it in this direction. The description of Harry’s abuse is minimal, but TW if that’s something that gets ya. It’s quick (or was supposed to be) because the request was for fluff plus I didn’t want to draw out Severus’s angst, but then I think I did...
> 
> Severus’s thoughts.  
> [Letter]  
> ::Parseltongue::

I.

Hogsmeade is so peaceful this early in the morning. Severus Snape cradles his cup of tea in both his hands as he stares out the window down onto the near empty street. A few shop owners mill about, early. It is mornings like these that Severus wonders if they had people for them at home, unhappy to see the prepared breakfast under a warming charm gone uneaten in favor of opening their shop instead. He sighs. One could hope for that future.

He turns in to face his simple flat, above the small potions shop he owns, and decides to brew a few extra potions for the day. It is the first Hogsmeade weekend, and Severus is unsure how popular his shop would be.

He had turned down Minerva’s offer to come work for her once more, telling her that he was never meant for teaching. However, once he was free of the school, he found himself unable to completely abandon Hogwarts as it had been where he resided for so long. His home, his hell, his safe haven. Despite all the bad things that had happened to him there, Hogwarts _was_ where he felt he belonged.

Instead of returning to teaching, then, Severus continued to make potions, but this time for the general public. He had worried that his former status as Death Eater, Dumbledore killer, and dungeon bat would hurt his business, but the distance from the War and the fact that he had been revealed as a spy and a hero actually was lending a hand to Severus’s small shop. His space is small – modest – but Severus is pleased with the way his life has turned out.

Behind him, at the window, he hears a crack of apparition and Severus spins around, instincts still high even after so long.

Harry Potter is making his way across the street, towards Hogwarts. His hair is even messier than normal, and his cheeks have a red hue to it, as though he has been running. The man – not boy or brat any longer – is working as the Defense professor and Severus has heard from many students, parents, and even Dumbledore’s portrait whilst he visits Minerva from time to time that Harry is an incredibly adept professor. And, he has broken the curse – he is going on his 8th year as a professor at the school.

Finishing off his warm cup of tea, Severus can’t help but smile as the younger man hurries up to Hogwarts. _At least he won’t have to worry about being caught by Filch, being out after curfew like this. Is it after curfew if it’s already 4 in the morning?_

Harry had made amends with Severus – not only coming to his defense right after the War, but continually popping up in Severus’s life, determined to get to know the man. Severus had been so hesitant at first, unable to reconcile the arrogant boy he had thought Harry was with the humble and somewhat quiet young man that Harry actually was.

In explanation, Harry had told Severus about his childhood – the neglect, abuse, and cupboard. Horrified, Severus had apologized to Harry for his behavior at Hogwarts, which Harry had shrugged off. “We all had parts to play,” he had said. In return for Harry’s vulnerability, Severus had shared his own stories of his rough childhood, sprinkling in stories about Lily Evans, which always made Harry’s verdant eyes glow in happiness.

“Were you in love with her?” Harry had asked one night.

“In love? No. Did I love her? Yes.” Harry’s hands had trembled then, and Severus had ignored the small movement. “She was the first person to show me kindness.”

Harry had grinned at that answer.

Severus can’t lie to himself, even now, watching Harry make his way back to Hogwarts from above Hogsmeade – he is, and has been for some time, attracted to Harry.

Harry, who had made a big coming out story in the Daily Prophet after an ex-boyfriend published a disgusting exposé about him (which Severus knew to be almost all lies), is openly gay, which Severus is happy about. Although he knows Harry probably still thinks of him as the greasy potions master, Severus is not ashamed to admit to himself that his fantasies are all about Harry now.

Sighing once more, Severus flicks his hand and sends his empty teacup to the sink to be washed up and heads to prepare for the day. He wishes for someone to make breakfast for or with or for him. For now, he will pretend he has Harry with him – keeping eggs under a warming charm with an even warmer smile and soft kiss.

*****

Harry is the chaperone for this week’s Hogsmeade weekend, Severus quickly figures out when the man steps into his shop. Students are milling about, staring longingly at the more serious and dangerous potions that are stocked behind the counter. They won’t dare to ask for them from the old potions master – they’ve heard the stories.

While Harry makes his way very pointedly through the students to Severus at the counter, the former spy takes a couple of moments to look the man over.

He looks tired, his hair still in that messy crow’s nest. Severus supposes a late night that requires running up to the castle before the students wake up will do that to a man. Despite the warm autumn they’ve been having, Harry is in long sleeved, thick robes. Severus wonders if Harry is hiding something, but quickly shakes that idea off. The castle – no matter the temperature outside – has always been a bit cold.

“Looks like business is good, huh?” Harry says, flashing Severus a quick grin.

The potions master smiles. “We’ll see if the brats buy anything instead of just staring at potions I will never sell them.” He raises his voice near the end and the students that hear him quickly avert their gazes to the harmless potions that will cure nausea or make a friend giggle for hours on end.

Harry shakes his head. “Not even a professor anymore and you’re still terrorizing students, Snape.” The crinkling by Harry’s eyes and the playful tone of the _Snape_ makes Severus’s eyes meet the younger man’s.

“Old habits,” he drawls. Harry lets out a chuckle. He goes to lean against the counter but quickly bounces back to stand up straight again, some of the smile slipping from his face.

“You should hear the rumors about you, you know,” Harry says. His hands rest on the shop counter and Severus tells himself he isn’t distracted by imagining the way Harry’s tan hands would look against the pallor of his skin.

Instead, Severus raises a brow. “Oh? And what are they saying about the greasy dungeon bat? The cruel potions master?”

“Oh no, Severus. Don’t you know?” Harry leans in and lowers his voice conspiratorially. “Apparently, some of the third years got caught after curfew the other day playing The Spy and Serpent. It’s a new wizarding children’s game and you’re the main character.” Not even years of spying can keep Severus’s eyes widening in surprise. “The whole challenge is to get to the end without being caught as a spy. The other players play other roles. The third years got caught because they were arguing over who got to play you.”

“You’re lying.”

Harry grins. “I swear, Severus, I’m not. Minerva showed me the game the next morning. There’s a little figurine of you and everything.”

Severus scoffs. “How silly.” There is self-doubt in his voice – enough that Severus knows Harry will be able to hear it after years of being friends.

Reaching his hand out to briefly cover Severus’s hand with his own, Harry looks at Severus seriously. “No. You’re a hero. 12 years later and you still don’t understand? Come now, Severus, you know these things.” Harry leans back and smirks. “I’d say you’re just fishing for compliments, now, Snape.”

He’s attempting to lighten Severus’s sudden somber mood and it works.

*****

Two mornings later finds Severus in a similar position – people watching. Once again, Harry pops onto the street and begins walking up to Hogwarts.

_Where is he coming from?_

Harry’s hands are stuffed into his pockets, his shoulders nearly pressed up to his ears, and his autumn jacket outlining the tense and quivering muscles of his back.

Severus cocks his head. A new beau, perhaps. Severus knows that Harry doesn’t use the floo for personal matters. He is an intensely private person now and doesn’t want anyone to have access to his private chambers. Harry had told him that one night last year after nearly freezing in the rain while coming to visit Severus.

“You could just floo here, you realize,” Severus had murmured.

Harry had cast yet another drying spell on his hair and leaned closer to the fire that was burning. “Severus, know that this is nothing against you, okay?” The potions master had inclined his head in understanding. “With everything that has happened since the War – all these 11 years filled with the Prophet thinking they know me, everyone trying to get a hand on me, and people telling my secrets – I just don’t want anyone having access to my floo. Not someone I know personally.”

Although hurt that Harry didn’t even trust Severus, the older man had understood the reasoning, and still does.

Severus can’t be sure about a new relationship, of course – Harry never talks romance with him. He isn’t sure if Harry doesn’t want to step on any toes, or if Harry still isn’t sure Severus is gay, or what.

As the man walks, Severus catches a glimmer of something, just under Harry’s jacket. _A glamor_ , he thinks. But what does Harry need to hide? Severus knows Harry has scars – they _all_ have scars – but the younger man isn’t ashamed of them. “Battle scars. Cool stories,” Harry had slurred one night after too much scotch with Severus.

The potions master is nothing if not a Slytherin and his curiosity gets the best of him. He squints at Harry as his form retreats to the castle but can see nothing but a faint glimmer still. Severus walks over to his desk and pulls out a fresh piece of parchment.

[Fancy a break from the brats? Come for a drink. -Severus]

Rolling it and sealing it quickly, Severus calls for his owl, Achilles, who looks annoyed to not be allowed to sleep just after his hunt.

“Do this for me, Achilles. It’s for Harry,” Severus murmurs. The owl perks up. He has always loved Harry – the man always has owl treats despite not owning his own. “Wait for a reply, please.”

Achilles takes off into the early morning and Severus sets off to perform his morning routine. He’s not brewing today, so he decides he will wash his hair of the protective grease and let it breathe for a little while.

By the time the steam from his shower has cleared, Achilles is back, still chomping on a sweet treat from Harry.

[Tonight? Forgive me if that’s too soon, but I miss your sunny disposition. If I don’t hear from you, I’ll assume you’re simply too excited to contain yourself since you get to see me tonight. -H]

Severus shakes his head. Harry’s sense of sarcasm is always a little bit too on the nose, but Severus likes it. Well, he likes everything about the man, so it’s not surprising.

II.

Harry enters Severus’s flat with a bottle in one hand and a disillusioned box in the other. Severus eyes both suspiciously.

“Oh, calm down, Severus. It’s just a little firewhisky.” Harry hands the bottle over and shrugs out of his jacket. Severus is glad to see he is wearing muggle clothes. Easier to figure out what’s going on. As Harry is distracted by hanging up his coat, Severus notices he can see the glamor peeking out of the sleeves of his long-sleeved t-shirt as well.

The way Harry’s denims hug his quidditch toned thighs doesn’t hurt either. Severus shakes his head.

Turning around with a grin, Harry waves away the disillusionment charm with a flourish. “The Spy and the Serpent,” he says excitedly. “I brought it as proof.”

Severus rolls his eyes. “Oh, gods above. I really didn’t want to believe this was real.”

Harry walks over to the living room and starts setting up the game, immediately making himself at home in Severus’s flat. Severus immediately shuts down the thought wishing that this _is_ Harry’s home if only he would want it. Waving his hand, Harry refreshes the fire and Severus sighs, crossing to the kitchen to grab glasses. He has long since learned that Harry can nest just about anywhere.

Once the firewhisky has been poured, Severus settles across from Harry and uses Harry’s distraction reading the instructions of the game to focus on Harry’s body and the glamor shimmering just above it.

_He must have used the strongest glamor he knows if I can’t see through it._

There is a small glamor wrapped around Harry’s right wrist, but the one that caught Severus’s attention is resting below Harry’s long-sleeved t-shirt. Severus decides that he must figure out how to see more of Harry’s body – to better understand the glamor, of course, and for no other reason.

“Okay, are you ready to play?” Harry rubs his hands together in excitement and then sips his firewhisky slowly.

Severus nods once and settles in while Harry explains the game. “It’s kind of like muggle Clue – have you ever played that?” Severus shakes his head, and then lets Harry’s voice float over him as the instructions are explained.

Soon, the two of them are deep in play. Severus learns that _his_ character isn’t always necessarily the spy – as he had thought from Harry’s explanation – and that you can’t _really_ play with only two people, but the magic of the game allows another game piece to be moving around and revealing information bit by bit to allow it.

Harry had obnoxiously chosen to be Severus, and as they play, he tries to imitate the deep and somewhat monotone voice that Severus used to use in his teaching days. Severus can’t help but chuckle a few times.

It feels like only minutes later, but half the bottle of firewhisky is gone, when finally Harry screeches. “Ah-ha. It’s you, real-Severus. You’re the spy. As usual.”

Severus inclines his head. “You do have me there.” The Ron Weasley figurine that Severus had chosen to play with as a joke raises his hand for a high five since they _had_ made it pretty far, but Severus scowls at before reaching for the box to put the game away. Harry’s Severus figurine’s eyebrow is up and is looking between Harry and real-Severus with a knowing look that real-Severus finds to be to incredibly discomforting so he hurries to put the rest of the game away.

“I’m surprised that the game focuses on me and not you,” Severus says. Harry shrugs and sits up straight to stretch in his chair.

“Severus, there are plenty of games about me.” Harry closes his eyes. “Gods know the Prophet is leeching all they can out of me before I get too tired of them and sue.” He sighs and leans back. “You’d think after so long _they’d_ grow tired of _me_ first. And, I live a normal life. No Aurors, no scandals – besides that one idiot ex-boyfriend – and they still find reasons to put me in the news.”

Severus knows Harry is drunk because it is the only time he really lets himself rant about the media and the public anymore. He hopes that the drunken rambling will lead to some sort of secret being revealed.

Harry shifts in his chair, his back thudding against the thick wood at the top of it. He hisses, sitting up bolt-straight and eyes opening wide. The alcoholic glaze that has been covering his eyes disappears in a moment.

“I think I’ve overstayed my welcome. Perhaps I should be getting back to the castle,” Harry says, standing and moving towards the door.

Severus stands with him and is flabbergasted. _What just happened?_ “What just happened?” Harry doesn’t turn around, so Severus goes to follow him. Gently, as he would with a frightened animal, Severus raises his hand and puts it on Harry’s shoulder.

Harry immediately flinches away and Severus has to fight to hide the hurt look that threatens to break through his hardened mask.

“Please don’t touch me.” Harry is gasping, suddenly out of breath.

Once again, his shoulders are tense, creeping up to touch his ears. Severus can see his glamor trembling, as though his magic is failing him. Quickly, Harry swings his jacket on. Now that Severus is really looking, he sees the pain that flashes through Harry’s eyes as he moves.

“I… I’m sorry, Severus, but I have to go.” Harry opens the door and shuts it quickly behind him, leaving Severus alone in his flat once more.

III.

Severus brews furiously over the next few days – so much so that his store is full and his stock room too. With no room to store potions, and business relatively slow, Severus has too much time to worry if he’s ruined his relationship with Harry.

Rationally, he knows he did nothing wrong, and it was Harry who freaked out and ran. But love doesn’t listen to rational reasoning.

_Love?_

Severus shakes his head. He supposes he’s not surprised to find out that he’s in love with Harry James Potter. It seems only right at this point based on the strange events that he’s lived through.

It is early morning again when Severus hears a crack of apparition. He is across the room at the window before he even realizes that he’s moved. Just as he expects, Harry is moving through Hogsmeade, his shoulders tense and gait stiff, glamor rippling across his shoulders. Severus is going to turn away, but he stops when he sees Harry pause in his walk, just as he passes Severus’s shop.

For a minute or two, Harry wavers, clearly arguing with himself about something. Then, unexpectedly, he makes his way to Severus’s front door, which is just off to the side of his shop. When their friendship became a permanent fixture in his life, Severus made sure that Harry was keyed into his wards – to most people milling about, they wouldn’t be able to see the door leading to his flat.

Severus moves to put the kettle on – he expects they’ll need tea. It takes quite a bit of time before there is a very soft knock at Severus’s door.

Slowly, so as not to be too eager, Severus goes to open the door. By the time he gets there, Harry is half turned away, as though he was considering leaving. Severus leaves the door open and goes back to the whistling kettle, giving the younger man the time he needs to make a decision.

Severus hears the door click shut and then there is movement behind him as Harry settles in at Severus’s kitchen table. Two mugs float and set themselves down next to the kettle and Severus inclines his head in thanks to Harry’s help. Soon, they are sitting across from one another – Severus watching Harry, and Harry watching his tea.

His years of a spy, a teacher, and a friend to Albus Dumbledore has brought Severus enough patience to watch grass grow, so he is content to wait for Harry to figure out how to speak with whatever he seems to be grappling. While he waits, Severus trails his eyes over Harry’s body. The glamor’s are thicker, stronger, and more frequent. The one around Harry’s right wrist is still there, but now there are a couple underneath the front of his shirt, as well as the back. Harry’s eyes are sunken in and the bags under them rival the bags Severus had in those critical months after Albus’s death.

Harry opens his mouth and closes it again, letting out a brief sigh. He gulps down some over steeped tea and then tries again. “I owe you an apology,” he finally says. Severus remains quiet, knowing that Harry isn’t really looking for words right now. _Finally,_ Harry looks up to meet Severus’s eye.

“I’m seeing someone. And it’s new. And he… well, sometimes he gets a bit jealous.” Severus tries to tamp down his own jealousy. “We started seeing each other over the summer and it got very intense very quickly. He was great and I really liked him. He seemed to be the perfect man, but…”

“Seemed?” Severus keeps his voice soft, the way he does when he ventures in to the Forbidden Forest to see if any unicorns would be willing to give up some hair or tears for a rare potion.

“Charles just… It’s hard to be apart so much now. Over the summer, it felt like I was basically living at his apartment – only leaving to come visit you or Minerva or work on lesson plans. But now – I mean, it’s not like I can get away every night to see him. It’s my fault since I’m the professor here, but… And he gets so worried that I’m with other men.” Harry’s voice was rising in pitch, the way the kettle’s whistle gets higher as it boils. “Our friendship – you and me – it’s important to me, Severus. And Charles knows that. He knows we’re friends. _Just_ friends.”

Severus tries to hide his hurt, swallows the rest of his tea. “If you would like to stop seeing each other, I would understand.”

“No!” The exclamation is so unexpected from the hesitant, quiet man that has shown up on his doorstep this morning. “That’s the thing. I don’t want to. But Charles…”

Harry shifts uncomfortably and suddenly, like lightning, everything clicks into place.

“What did he do?” Severus knows his voice has become low and gravelly – a symptom of Nagini’s bite, his anger, and his jealousy all at once.

Harry’s eyes snap to meet Severus’s and he begins to tremble. His eyes are wide behind his glasses and he looks so worried. The fact that one man – a boyfriend, no less – can reduce one of the greatest wizard’s Severus has ever known to a fearful and trembling boy makes Severus burn.

“What?” Harry sounds breathless.

“Harry, what did he do?”

“Nothing, just – sometimes… well, he just gets a little angry. But I know he cares for me. And I’m so tired. Going back and forth, my magic, I just…” Harry trails off. Severus now knows that the glamors are constant, and perhaps somewhat involuntary on Harry’s part. It is as though his magic is trying to hide something shameful, something painful. Perhaps his magic instinctively knew to show itself to Severus.

“Drop your glamors, Harry.”

Suddenly, Harry looks just as skittish as he did before he abruptly left that night only days before. But Severus has expected this and has warded the door tightly. He cannot wait anymore. He needs answers before he goes to find this _Charles._

“I… I can’t.”

Severus stands and kneels beside Harry’s chair. Carefully, so as not to startle the younger man, Severus puts his hand on Harry’s knee.

“Harry, have you looked in a mirror lately?” He pauses but receives no answer. “Your magic is exhausting you. Soon, you will have no energy left, and while I’m sure Madame Pomfrey likes seeing you at meals in the Great Hall, I’m sure she does not miss you in the Hospital Wing. Let me see what is below your glamors.” Harry starts to shake his head, but Severus pushes on: “Let me help you.”

A lone tear drips down Harry’s face and he nods. Severus stands and holds his hand out to Harry, who takes it and lets Severus move him to the couch.

Slowly, Severus lifts the bottom of Harry’s sweater up and Harry stiffly lifts his arms as Severus removes the garment, leaving him in a plain short sleeve t-shirt.

Severus moves his hand slowly over Harry’s wrist and raises an eyebrow up at the younger man, needing Harry to dispel the magic. With one last sigh, Harry relaxes on the couch and lets his magic dissipate.

Severus has to fight to keep a gasp in and knows that reacting so drastically will only make matters worse.

Harry’s wrist has yellowing-outlined dark finger smudges and there is a slight redness around his neck. There are bruises that disappear under Harry’s undershirt. Severus knows that the physical damage will heal but that Harry will probably always suffer from the aftermath of this mentally, especially after his upbringing with the Dursleys.

“Oh, Harry,” Severus says softly. He runs soft fingers over the bruises on Harry’s wrist. “May I…” He trails his fingers across the bruise, magic gathering at his fingertips.

“Don’t!” Harry pushes Severus off. “You can’t heal them. What would he think? He’d know I told.” He pauses and grasps at his own wrist. “Anyway, it’s fine. Most of it is my fault. I was late to our dinner plans the other night because I had to give a detention. And then…”

Severus cannot listen anymore. “Harry, this is not your fault. This is not how people care for other people. Couples fight, yes, but not violently. Not like this. Why would you think that?”

Harry shrugs. “People who care about me have always treated me like this. I was never under any illusions that the Dursleys cared about me but they treated me horribly. That first guy who reported me to the Prophet with those lies. That hurt me but he claimed to like me. Charles says he might be falling in love with me. And if that’s true, then this is how he loves me.”

The potions master wants to find everyone that has ever hurt Harry and hurt them right back, starting with the Dursleys and ending with this Charles fellow. He nearly shakes with the rage. He looks back down at Harry’s bruised wrist and focuses on the boy in front of him.

“Harry… No. That’s not how love works. Look at the Molly and Arthur. Look at Ron and Hermione. How they treat each other. How they treat you.”

“Or you.” Harry mutters – clarity shining through his sad eyes.

Severus looks up and meets Harry’s eyes. “Or me.”

It is hours later, mid-morning, when Harry shuffles around on the couch. Severus has long since sent Minerva an owl that Harry is okay but with him and not feeling well. He has gone through two pots of tea and one calming potion while waiting for Harry to come out of the doze he faded into after revealing everything to Severus.

Harry’s messy hair pops over the back of the couch and his emerald eyes slowly come to focus on Severus.

Severus could try pretending he wasn’t watching over Harry, but he isn’t going to do that. No use hiding anything now. From across the small flat, Severus can see that Harry already looks better and more rested – the glamors being dispelled giving Harry’s magic time itself to heal.

“I should get to school,” Harry murmurs. “Gods only know what havoc my students have been wrecking in my absence. Plus, I have so much work to get done before I go to dinner tonight.” Harry ran a hand over his face, his lips quirked in a frown.

Severus didn’t even have to ask what he meant. “You’re going back to him?”

“Severus, he’s my boyfriend. We have plans and I can’t just not go.”

“Harry… boyfriends, partners, lovers – they don’t treat each other that way.” Severus frowns, thinking of his own father and mother. “Or, they shouldn’t.” Harry stands up, looking doubtful. Severus takes a deep breath and then takes a chance. “Look, my father was abusive –” Harry flinches at the word – “to my mother. Every night. But that doesn’t mean I would _ever_ treat a partner – a boyfriend – like that.”

Severus watches Harry carefully. He knows his own sexuality has never come up. The younger man’s eyes snap to meet his, and he offers a soft smile.

“Partners – true partners – don’t treat each other that way. Like I said earlier, look at Molly and Arthur, Harry. Do you think either one of them hurts the other the way Charles hurts you? Or Ron and Hermione?”

Harry shrugs, hands stuffed into his pockets, head down and shoulders tense by his ears. “It’s not like Charles ever does anything in public… People’s private lives are just that, Severus, private.”

Shaking his head, Severus struggles to find the words to help Harry as well as keep his temper in check. “Harry…” In that moment, Harry looks up – his verdant eyes shining in vulnerability. _How did I get here?_ They ask. And Severus doesn’t know the answer.

“I know it can be hard,” Severus continues, ignoring the look in Harry’s eyes, “to imagine leaving a partner. Especially one you truly care for.” Despite his calm tone, Severus’s anger bubbles at Harry’s situation. The beautiful boy deserves more than a shit human being who is going to treat him with any less love and adoration than he deserves. He takes a step toward Harry, who looks like he’s about to bolt.

“It’s only sometimes, Severus.”

_What happened to the strong-willed boy who I once thought to be more arrogant than his father?_

The anger boils in Severus gut and he cannot stop his feet from moving. Before he knows what he’s done, his hand is fisted in Harry’s thin shirt and lifting it up to reveal purpling bruises blossoming across Harry’s chest and back.

“ _This_ is not how you should be treated, Harry. _This_ isn’t a healthy relationship. _This_ isn’t Charles loving you, Harry, this is him attempting to _own_ you. Is that what you want? You want to be owned? Just someone’s possession to show off when they feel like it?” Harry hisses and twists out of Severus’s grasp. “You deserve more, Harry. You deserve someone who truly loves you, someone who can understand you are both the Boy Who Lived _and_ just Harry Potter. You need someone who knows you at a level so deep that your flaws are as well known to them as your beauty. You need –”

Harry snaps out at Severus’s words, interrupting him. He hisses something in Parseltongue but Severus spent enough time with the Dark Lord to know the words, ::how dare you,:: and somewhere else in the tirade, Harry hisses, ::Severus.::

The door slams behind Harry before Severus even knows what has happened. He goes to his window to watch Harry storm up to the castle, but instead, Harry turns on his heel and apparates. It is in that moment that Severus realizes how ashamed of himself he is for losing his infamous control. He pushed too far and pushed Harry right back to the person he was trying to keep him away from.

Severus bites back a strong wave of emotion as he realizes that it is quite possible he has lost Harry.

For good.

IV.

The evening edition of the Daily Prophet is delivered by Severus’s elbow as he nurses his first and only glass of Ogden’s. He almost leaves it to rot like the trash it is, but the headline catches his eye.

_Boy Who Lived and New Paramour Fight Openly and Split!_

Below the headline is a photo of Harry facing some unknown dark haired man – _Charles,_ Severus’s mind spits _–_ looking upset and … _Is that a bruise on his cheek?_ Harry is holding his wand by his side, his hand shaking. Before the photo resets, Charles raises his hand and Harry raises his wand pointedly.

Severus lets out a small grunt, wanting to see more. He doesn’t bother reading the article, especially after seeing the byline: Rita Skeeter flash at him a couple times. He downs his Ogden’s and moves to leave – to where, he doesn’t know – but an angry crack in the street stops him.

Employing every bit of will power in his body, Severus refuses to get his hopes up and refuses to go to the window to see if it is Harry. Instead, Severus stands in the middle of his living room and doesn’t know what to do.

A loud banging on his door makes Severus’s decision for him. He doesn’t allow himself to hope, and yet, he holds his breath as he opens the door.

Harry pushes past him, anger rolling off of him in waves. “Goddamn it, Severus,” he says. He opens his mouth to say more, but by the time Severus has turned to face him, Harry has spotted the Prophet.

“Of _course_ Skeeter was there. Gods above, fuck!” Severus bites his tongue that aches to scold Harry for his language. “So you saw, then?” Severus nods. Harry watches the photo, lets out a bitter laugh. “Oh, well, they didn’t even catch the best part.” He turns his head and Severus catches a glimpse of the sharp bruise that has already bloomed along the line of Harry’s cheekbone.

He can’t help himself and crosses the room, gripping Harry’s chin gently. The younger man freezes and the anger flaming in his eyes softens. He deflates slowly, a flower succumbing to the harsh winds of winter.

“Now, may I?” Severus asks again. His words are soft, but tone hard. He looks straight into Harry’s eyes and knows his eyes are burning with so many emotions that he hasn’t bothered to even try to hide – anger, desire, jealousy, love, pain, sympathy.

Harry nods and swallows heavily. Severus moves his hand from Harry’s chin and runs his fingertips up towards the bruise. Wordlessly, windlessly, and without removing his eyes from Harry’s, Severus gathers his magic and pushes it into Harry’s cheek.

As the bruise dissipates, soaking back into Harry’s cheek, the man shivers. Severus cannot deny that he pushes magic into Harry’s skin for longer than is needed.

“Perhaps we should move to the sitting area and you can tell me the best part,” Severus mutters, and Harry nods, his eyes shut. When they open, they are dazed, and the younger man has to blink a couple of times to clear them.

Slowly, they move over to the sitting area. Harry settles himself in his usual place on the couch and Severus sits next to him, instead of the chair across the table. If Harry is surprised, he hides it well, or is too tired to care. Severus waves his hand and a glass of water floats through the room to settle itself on the table in front of Harry. Without pause, he grabs it and gulps it gratefully. The glass shakes in his hands and Severus takes it out of his hands once it is empty.

“I hexed him.” Harry finally mutters.

“Well Gryffindors aren’t known for their control,” Severus says. His attempt to get Harry to look at him with something other than anger or sorrow works and Harry smiles slightly.

“He…he said some horrible things. About me, about Hogwarts, about – well, about you. And I couldn’t take it anymore. I told him to stop. That if he kept talking like that, it was over. For good. And he just laughed. Told me I wasn’t good enough for anyone else. That I was his and he was perfect for me.” Harry lets out a shuddering breath.

“It was just like you said, Severus,” he continues. “He didn’t want to love me. He wanted to own me. The Wizarding World’s Golden Boy. Put me on a pedestal and let me shine there. But…”

“That’s not who you are,” Severus finishes for him. Harry nods.

It is silent for a few moments, and when Harry speaks again, Severus has never heard him sound so defeated. “It’s all I’ve ever known. First, Afton publishes that exposé about me. Then, Charles. The Dursleys. Maybe all I’m worthy of is love that hurts me.”

Severus feels his heart clench at the words. How anyone ever made this boy feel less than is beyond him. Carefully, he places his hand on Harry’s slumped shoulder. “Can I ask you a question, Harry?”

The younger man looks up at him. “Always, Severus.”

“What happened to that strong-willed boy who sat in my potions classes all those years? What happened to the man who teased Voldemort? Where did he go, Harry?”

“I don’t know. I know the Weasleys don’t act like so horrible to each other but that’s only in front of me. Charles only treated me that way in private. Afton waited until we were over and so he didn’t love me anymore. And the Dursleys…they pretended I didn’t exist in public. After all that… Maybe this is just how I’m meant to be loved.”

“No, Harry. No one deserves that. You deserve someone who will treasure you. Who will treat you with respect and care. Someone who understands you are so much more than the Golden Boy. Someone who will love and cherish you.”

“Does this person exist?”

“Of course he does.” Severus knows Harry has just gotten out of a relationship. Knows he isn’t ready to know how Severus truly feels. Knows now isn’t the time. But gods does he ache to shake the man and tell him he’s right in front of him.

Harry nods. He looks at Severus as though he’s seeing right through the potions master and Severus resists the urge to shift under the gaze. “Thank you, Severus.”

Even through the words, Severus knows Harry has a long way to go until he truly understands just how much he deserves the world to be offered to him. For now, Severus is content knowing his words will swim around Harry’s brain for days to come. For now, Severus has to deal with the fact that Harry is healing and might be for some time.

“Perhaps I should get back to the castle,” Harry murmurs. Severus lets out a non-committal ‘hmmm’ and Harry stands to go.

“Just…think about what I said, Harry. And go see Madame Pomfrey, for gods’ sakes.”

The look Harry gives Severus as he goes reminds the potions master of the fire that burns within the younger man.

V.

It is almost four weeks later when Achilles returns early morning from a hunt and Severus has just finished brewing his morning tea. Severus moves Achilles’s perch to the corner where the bird likes to rest, but instead, the owl lands on his kitchen table and holds out his leg. When Severus takes the note, Achilles doesn’t move and watches Severus pointedly for a reply.

He does not need to untie the letter to know it is from Harry. “He must not be sleeping,” Severus murmurs.

[We need to talk. H.]

Severus allows himself to worry for a few brief moments. Harry is usually a very verbose young man and a letter containing only four words is rare.

[Come by tonight. If you have patrol, have someone cover.] Severus ties his reply to Achilles who nips at his fingers before taking back off out the window.

He cannot lie to himself – he is nervous about what Harry wants to speak with him about. After the first two weeks of no contact with the man, Severus rationally knew that the man was grappling with a lot of complicated things, but he had resigned himself to never hearing from the man again. If only Severus could figure out how to pass the time until the evening. 

*****

He knows he won’t be able to focus on any complicated potions, so Severus brews a few things for Hogwarts and for his shop. He also has a few owl orders that he’s been neglecting for simple things like Calming Draughts and Dreamless Sleeps, and he makes those without really paying attention at all.

He finishes brewing with enough time to shower and wash the protective oil out of his hair once again. As he brushes it after getting dressed, Severus tries to tell himself he isn’t preening for Harry, but he knows that’s a lie. Still, he wears a dark blue shirt and black dress pants instead of his usual black on black.

Harry arrives just as Severus has finished getting dressed. He opens the door and the young man holds up a bag of food.

“I brought Indian,” Harry says, and gives the potions master a small smile.

Severus doesn’t like how timid Harry seems, so he cracks a half-hearted sneer. “It better be from that muggle place or from Hogwarts’s kitchen elves.”

At this, Harry manages a bigger smile and enters Severus’s home. “Lucky for you, Binky made it special. I told her it was for you and she almost fell over her dress trying to get the lamb stewing for you.” Harry pauses his unloading of the food. “They miss you, those elves.”

“I was many things in my time at Hogwarts, Harry, but cruel to the house elves was never one of them. Gryffindors, yes. But house elves, absolutely not.”

The sides of Harry’s eyes crinkle – a true smile. “I know. You’re a kind man, Severus.” Harry lifts his eyes and they linger on Severus for a moment longer than what is normal for him. Severus refuses to believe that he sees a warmth that might be disguising love in his eyes. _Wishful thinking_ , he assures himself.

Harry gets the bowls from Severus’s cabinets with a simple wave of his hand. Severus shivers as Harry’s magic fills his small kitchen for a moment.

It is silent as they eat for a while before Severus is unable to control his nerves anymore. “You said we needed to talk.” Harry looks up, his fork halfway to his mouth. His brow furrows and he sighs. He pushes his food away from him and for a moment, looks as though he wishes the ground would swallow him, or that he was smaller than he is.

“I did a lot of thinking after I left here a month ago.” Harry runs a hand through his hair and rubs the back of his neck. “I contacted my Mind Healer who I was seeing after the War.” Severus is surprised at this. He had though Harry had overcome his War terrors.

“Have your nightmares returned?”

“Well… yes. They’re – well, they’re different now. But they’re back. And I thought…” Harry lets out a huff and seems to gather all his Gryffindor courage. “I thought after speaking with you and Madame Pomfrey that all of this perhaps isn’t normal.” Severus wants to spew vitriol about how it’s not and how all the people who have made Harry feel that way should go to one of the seven hells and suffer, but he bites his tongue.

“The Mind Healer… Marie – she’s made some pretty great points this past month. For the first three weeks, I was seeing her almost every day.” At this, Harry’s cheeks turn an endearing shade of pink and Severus knows he must have thrown his name around to get those appointments so close together – something Harry never does lightly.

It is silent for a few moments and Severus wonders if he’s meant to speak now. “She also has pointed a few things out to me,” Harry finally continues. At last, he lifts his gaze and searches Severus’s face. “Things I think I’ve known for a long time. Things that I only needed someone to tell me outright to truly believe.” He smirks – a look he’s picked up from spending time with Severus. “We both know I can be quite dense sometimes.”

The potions master inclines his head and smiles. Harry stands and moves to stand by the window that Severus looks out of every morning, longing for a strong partner who loves him. He is fidgety – indicating just how nervous he must be. Severus knows that Harry has long become a very still and gentle man.

“Harry,” Severus starts, holding himself back from standing and going to the younger man. “Whatever you have to say, I will not judge you. You know this.”

Without turning, Harry nods. He draws patterns over the panes of the glass and Severus can’t even bring himself to be annoyed at the streaks he’s leaving.

“You were saying… Well, it’s just that…” Harry sighs and shakes his head. He takes a deep breath and seems to gather all his Gryffindor courage. “I think Charles was right to be jealous.”

The words are quiet, but hope swirls through Severus’s chest like potion steam. He leans forward in his chair but holds himself back from standing again. “Oh?” He murmurs the sound softly, somehow unable to hold himself back.

“It’s just that… we’ve been friends so long and our relationship is… well, I value it so much. And I…” Harry shakes his head. “I think… Well, Marie thinks, but I know…” Again, the younger man releases a noisy breath. “You were saying that love… people who love each other, who love me – they don’t treat each other cruelly or,” Harry swallows heavily, “abuse each other.”

“I did.” Severus nods but knows Harry can only see his reflection vaguely in the blurry reflection in the window.

“You said that Molly and Arthur don’t treat each other or me that way. You said that _you_ wouldn’t treat me that way.” Harry turns away from the window to face Severus. “Do you… I mean, that is to say…”

Finally, Severus stands. He walks slowly across the room and nods again. “Given the chance, Harry,” Severus’s voice is barely louder than a whisper, “I would treat you like a rare and valuable potions ingredient.” Harry smiles. “You’re a precious gift. And you should be treated as such. And _I_ would treat you as such. Just as you deserve, were I to be lucky enough to be graced with your affections.”

Severus knows he’s taking a risk being so candid – so close to Harry’s breakup with someone as horrid as Charles sounds, so close to Harry’s vulnerability.

He is standing so close to Harry; he can feel the heat of each breath. Severus wants to lean in – to taste what he so desperately wants, to finally show his true feelings. But he stops himself. He searches Harry’s eyes – so big and full of heart – and waits for the man to speak again or move himself.

“My past two relationships – if you can count mine and Charles’s coupling as a relationship – were with tall, dark haired men. Men who were older than me. Men who were smart and funny and kind when it counted. Or so I thought.” Harry tilts his head. His eyes drop to Severus’s lips. He backs up against the window and his hands steady himself by grabbing Severus’s hips. The potions master practices all his control to not shudder at the touch.

“Severus…” Harry is whispering now too, “it’s always been you. Since sixth year and the Half-Blood Prince. Since I found out you were a spy. Since I died and taunted the Dark Lord with your loyalty to our side. Since we became friends. Since we played that stupid game and –”

Severus can’t wait anymore. He leans in and captures the younger man’s mouth mid-word. He clutches at Harry – one hand in his soft unruly hair, and the other behind his back.

Harry is just as responsive as Severus always thought, hoped, imagined he’d be. He arches into the kiss and lets out a noisy exhale through his nose. Severus shivers at the feel of the man’s breath over his skin. Then, he shivers because Harry loses his timidity and soon their kiss has deepened.

Harry’s fingers are clenching Severus’s hips, pulling him closer. His tongue is in Severus’s mouth – silky and soft. And someone is moaning. And Severus is embarrassed to realize it’s him. But Harry doesn’t seem to care. If anything, the noise spurs him on. He presses close to Severus and smiles against his mouth.

Harry has come alive against Severus – the same wild passion that makes him so magically strong and gives him the zeal for life Severus has always been jealous of shining through in the moment. It is only when Severus feels himself hardening and feels Harry’s own hardness answering back, and the thought that this is the Harry that the world deserves to have in it – the Harry that is unrestrained in his emotions – that he realizes he’s probably moving far too fast for the young man who is still getting over a horrible relationship.

Reluctantly, Severus pulls away from the younger man who makes a sound of dismay. He tries to step away – to give himself room to breathe – but Harry clutches his hips tightly.

“Why?” He asks quietly.

Severus sighs, their faces so close that his breath ruffles the edges of Harry’s hair. “I don’t want to stop, Harry. Gods know I’ve been hoping something like this would happen for so many years.”

“Then don’t.” Harry pushes himself against Severus “Don’t stop, Severus. I want you… I need you. Don’t make me wait anymore for you.”

Employing all his skills he gained as a spy, Severus pulls away from Harry – nearly wrenching his hips out of the younger man’s and walked to his small living area. He sat heavily on his couch and rubbed his hands over his face.

“That’s the thing, Harry. _I_ don’t want to wait.” He paused and decided to be as open as he could. “It’s always been you for me, as well.” Harry stepped forward, his mouth open to speak, but Severus held up a hand. “But you – you’re dealing with certain things right now. Things that could greatly affect your mental health. For once, I hear you dealing with your abusive past.

“And it’s all well and good to want me, and I believe you do, but Harry… Once we start this, I can’t lose you. I won’t let you go. This is it for me, Harry. _You_ are it for me.”

Severus doesn’t remember the last time he’s been so vulnerable in front of another person, but he figures Harry is as good a person as any to lay out all his feelings to, considering he’s the object of all those feelings.

Slowly, as though dealing with a skittish thestral, Harry moves into the living room as well and sits on the table in front of Severus. He reaches out and grabs the potions master’s hands, gripping them tightly. He remains silent though, long enough for Severus to look up. When he meets Harry’s eyes, he is surprised to see them full of tears.

“Don’t you get it, Severus? You’re it for me too.” Severus begins to protest but Harry shakes his head. “I am confronting things. And I probably should have dealt with them years ago.” Harry lets out a small, watery laugh.

“But Severus, I feel healthier than I have in a long time. The reason I waited so long to contact you is because I didn’t want you to second guess me. I’m sure about this,” Harry squeezes Severus’s hands, “and more than that… I’m sure about you.”

Moving slowly again, Harry leans in and lightly kisses the corner of Severus’s mouth. It is something in the gentleness that finally convinces Severus and he moves to meet Harry’s mouth in the middle.

He doesn’t remember the last time he felt so hopeful and happy. But with Harry, it is easy to feel that way. He believes the younger man when he says he feels healthy and he is sure. There is the standard fear Severus has whenever someone admits feelings for him – that it is a lie, that he isn’t good enough – but Harry is genuine and kind and the way he is moving against Severus makes the potions master believe the man.

Before he knows what is happening, Harry is straddling his lap, grinding a hardness down onto Severus’s answering one. Harry lets out a shuddering breath and buries his head into Severus’s neck, biting down and soothing the sting with his tongue. The soft brush of tongue on skin makes Severus’s head spin and the room fills with a loud groan that Severus doesn’t even bother being embarrassed about.

He reaches a hand under Harry’s shirt, finally feeling the warm, tan skin of the young professor’s back. Harry sits up, not stopping the movement of his hips, and raises his arms. Severus meets the younger man’s eyes and Harry bites his lip and nods. Severus drags Harry’s shirt up and over his head and swallows deeply at the perfect man in front of him. He runs his fingertips over the dusky brown nipples and over the lines of Harry’s stomach.

Now, it is Harry groaning and he leans back in and captures Severus’s mouth again.

Harry’s hands are everywhere – in Severus’s hair, running down the length of Severus’s chest, fumbling with the buttons on Severus’s shirt. All the while, his hips are moving methodically and Severus is overwhelmed with the sensation of holding Harry, having Harry, _loving_ Harry.

He decides he’s had enough of frotting on the couch like a young teenage. Severus grips Harry’s hips tightly and stands, making sure Harry’s legs are wrapped around his waist and he feels steady. When Harry rips his mouth away from Severus’s, his eyes are full of shock, desire, and something so deep and intense Severus is scared to figure out what it is.

“I am not a teenager anymore, Mr. Potter,” he says, mostly joking. “If we are to do this, we are to do this properly in a bed. Do you agree?”

Harry’s eyes widen, the green becoming dark with lust. “Oh… Severus, yes I agree.” And he dives back in to suck on Severus’s neck as the potions master navigates them both through his small apartment.

*****

Severus does not remember ever feeling as _whole_ as he does in this moment – running his fingers over Harry’s naked back as the man sleeps, draped over Severus’s body like a too-warm blanket. The other man is simply magnificent, Severus knows this now to be a fact in all aspects of the man’s life.

He shifts his legs as the memories of the night flood into his mind. He’d practice occlumency but he likes these memories. Severus feels a bit like a young Slytherin as he feels himself harden at the thoughts of Harry spread across his bed, eyes screwed shut in passion.

“I know I’m younger than you, Severus, but I don’t think I can go again, yet.” Harry’s muffled voice rings out and the younger man chuckles as he turns his head to look at Severus.

The potions master smiles at the younger man and Harry pushes up to kiss him. “How long have you been awake?” Harry asks. He stretches like a cat but seems to refuse to push away from Severus at all, so for a moment, Severus is distracted by long and tense limbs over his body.

“I never went to sleep,” Severus murmurs finally. “I didn’t want…” He trails off, suddenly embarrassed that he was so nervous to wake up and find Harry gone.

“This wasn’t a dream, Severus. I’m here. And, sorry to tell you, I’m here to stay.”

Severus rolls his eyes, but inside, he feels as though unicorns are prancing on his heart. “I suppose I can tolerate you for a while longer.”

“Forever,” Harry corrects.

Overwhelmed with emotions Severus never thought he’d get to feel with Harry, his mouth speaks before his brain can stop him. “I love you.”

Harry beams – his happiness brighter than the sunshine spilling through the curtains in Severus’s bedroom. “I love you too, Severus.”

They kiss for a while, and Severus revels in the feelings tumbling through his mind and body. Harry seems content to just kiss and touch and Severus is all too happy to oblige. Together, they doze off and on all morning.

“Who’s going to tell Minerva?” Severus asks at one point. “And aren’t they missing you at the castle?”

Harry blushes and buries his head in Severus’s chest. “It’s the weekend and I may or may not have told Minerva not to expect me back before Monday morning.”

Severus groans, and knows he’ll hear all about this the next time he goes to the castle to play chess with Minerva or have tea with Albus's portrait. But he cannot bring himself to care when Harry lifts his head, smiles, and leans in to kiss him once again.

**Author's Note:**

> I may or may not write the deleted scene where Harry and Severus are having their *ahem* private time in the bedroom. We'll see.


End file.
